The Not-So-Happy Hunger Games
by Country Batgirl
Summary: Panem is back to the dreadful way it used to be. You can thank the new President for that. Crimson Mellark has grown to hate it. It doesn't help cure her hatred when this not-so-new Panem ruins her life either. Rated T to be safe.
1. Say What Now?

(Crimson's P.O.V.)

I shoved my twin brother, Bristol, as we ran to the TV. We lunged onto the couch in our living room, and directed our eyes to the television. Today, all of Panem would be watching. Today, would see who the new President is. According to the history books, many people did not like to use the term "President" after the end of President Snow's ruling, which was over 500 years ago. People started to accept the term again though about 200 years ago. You could say I was kind of a history buff. I mean, how could I not be? My name was Crimson Mellark for Peeta's sake! If your ancestors overthrew the evil government 517 years ago, you would be interested in history too.

"The results are in," said the newscaster. For a split second her face dropped, before she smiled again and said cheerily, "Panem welcomes our new leader, President Zannabeth H. Rothenberg!" I stiffened, and looked at Bristol, whose face had visibly paled.

"No…" my mother said at barely a whisper.

The TV no longer had the newscaster, but instead it had the new President on the screen. She smiled, and waved at the crowd in front of her. My brother and I exchanged looks, hoping that President Rothenberg wouldn't live up to all that she said she would.

"Thank you all so much for your support," she said into the microphone she stood behind. "I could not have done this without you, so I promise to lead you the very best I can. I will give you my one hundred percent, everyday. The first thing I will do is establish where you will live. You will be taken to the district we think fits you best, and the rest will live in the Capitol with me." The crowd cheered. Her smile grew before she delivered the piece of information I dreaded to hear. The piece of information all the children of Panem dreaded to hear.

"And, of course, we will bring true entertainment back. We will bring back the Hunger Games!" she yelled the last part. I felt myself go numb. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. All I could do is sit, and think about how I might die-my brother might die. My 12-year-old brother! And, what for? For their stupid entertainment? I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

~3 years later~

I woke up in a happy mood. A happy mood that lasted a split second. It went away when I remembered. Today was the day of the Reaping. I got up, and put on the dress I had laid at the end of my bed the night before. It was a simple crimson shirt dress with no sleeves. My mom bought it for me saying it matched my name. It was always my favorite. I brushed my hair, and put it into a simple side braid.

I made my way into our kitchen. It wasn't much of a kitchen. It was part of a medium sized room, that also served as our main living space and my brother's bedroom (not really a bedroom, seeing as there was no bed and he slept on the couch). After the new President was elected, we were forced to move from our decent home in District 11, to this small crappy house in District 12.

I saw my brother munching on an apple for breakfast. I was way too nervous to eat.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked my mother, who was currently peeling the skins off of the potatoes.

"Out hunting," she said. That's where he usually was. He would usually take my brother or me, saying the skill could be useful if we ever got selected for the Hunger games. It was necessary since our chances got higher every year. This year we each had our names in twelve times. I would rather have my name in twenty times, and his in only four, but he refused. Suddenly, I heard a gasp, which interrupted my thoughts.

"Oh, my darling! You look so beautiful and grown up! I just wish it was for a different occasion," she said as she sat the half-peeled potato, wiped her hands on her apron, and ran to hug me. I hugged her back, knowing it could possibly be one of my last few hugs I have with her. I would not cry. I did all my crying last night. I always cry the night before the Reaping. If most kids were honest, they did too.

My brother stood up from the chair he was sitting in, giving me a look that said it was time to go. I nodded, and released my mom. She looked at me and gave a sad smile before turning around to hug my brother. Then she allowed herself to get serious.

"Listen, don't you ever, and I mean ever, volunteer to take someone's place. I don't care if it's the starving child you met one time. I don't care if it's a kid who's the only provider for his family. Heck, I don't even care if it's your best friend. I care about you two and you two only. At the end of today, I want you both sitting at this table for dinner, you got that?" she asked. We both knew this stern speech well, and knew that she only did it before every Reaping because she loved us.

We both nodded in response to her question, and headed to the door. Once we were outside, we started towards the place where the ceremony was happing. We were walking slowly might I add. We were in _no_ rush to get there.

"So…" I said, trying to fill the silence.

"So?" Bristol questioned, not helping at all.

I gave him a look, and asked, "So, do think you'll get picked?"

"For the sake of the other tributes, I hope not. They'd drop dead in fear the moment they see me," he said, flexing his arm where _there was supposed to be_ muscles. I rolled my eyes, but laughed. I have to admit though, he's stronger then he looks, but I would never tell him that.

We arrived at the location of the reaping, and got in line for the stupid finger prick and paperwork. I started to get nervous again. Fortunately, the line was moving pretty fast, and before you knew it, we had made it through.

Bristol and I said our goodbyes, and headed to where we were supposed to be. I was now in a crowd of girls who probably didn't like me. Most girls didn't. I was a tomboy at heart, and I preferred to hang out with guys. I headed over to the side of the crowd, where there a rope. I looked for a certain someone, when I saw the familiar face was already looking at me. I smiled and waved. He waved back, and was about to mouth something when he was interrupted by the starting of the ceremony.

Some lady with bad fashion taste comes up on stage. A video is played. You already know what all happens. Next thing we know, the time comes. The time where we will know who has been chosen to be sent to their death.

"As usual, ladies first," the woman says into the microphone. She reaches her hand in, and grabs a small slip of paper, and reads aloud.

"Crimson Mellark," she says, cheerful as ever.

Say what now?

 **A/N: Okay, so I apologize for any errors in this, but its 5:40am, and I haven't slept all night. Also, something has gotten up underneath my left shift key, and it only works half of the time. Oh, what fun. Okay, I'm tired. You know the drill. If you wanna, follow or favorite this story. If you don't, then don't. Please leave a review, because I need sleep.**

 **God Bless!**


	2. Taking my Life, and Taking my Dignity

(Crimson's P.O.V.)

I stood there baffled at what I just heard. My ears must have betrayed me. There's no way I just got picked for the Hunger Games.

I knew my thoughts weren't true, because everyone was looking at me. I whipped my head over to my brother. He was looking at me in the eyes. The look he wore on his face was one of terror.

He shook his head, looked towards the front, and yelled, "I volunteer as tribute!" I almost broke after that. I knew I had to appear strong like my ancestor did when she was picked for the Hunger Games, but Bristol was making that difficult.

The Effie wannabe shook her head, and said, "A male cannot volunteer to take the place of a female." She turned her head towards me, smiled, and said, "Come on up, darling." She gestured with her hand for me to walk forward.

I made my way up front, and looked into the crowd. Bristol was crying. My best friend was also crying I was just waving happily to moments ago was also losing it. My eyes scanned the crowd of anxious boys. They looked so scared, and they had a right to be. One of them would join me on this stage. Many of them understood as I did, that whoever was chosen would not be returning home. It was horrifying.

The lady whose name I have already forgotten spoke, "And now time for the boys." She then reached over, and grabbed a slip of paper. She opened it, and read the name written.

"Treyton Undersee!" she yelled way too happily into the microphone. My eyes widened, and my heart dropped. Now I know my ears must be playing tricks on me. I looked into the crowd, at the face of my fellow Tribute.

My best friend wiped the tears off his face quickly, and walked to the stage, giving the appearance of confidence. I knew him well enough to know that he was losing it. I also knew this from my few minutes of experience of being chosen for the Hunger Games.

A few more words were said before we are escorted into the newly built Justice Building. When President Rothenberg decided to re-create the Panem her idol, President Snow, had built, she made sure that every district had a Justice Building like it did then. Although then, they called those who served her the Peacekeepers. Because of the rebellion in the past, the President thought it'd be best to call them Peace Enforcers. Kind of an oxymoron, don't you think?

I was forced into a room where I was left alone for a little while. After what felt like forever, my mom and brother burst through the door. I ran up to my brother, and wrapped my arms around him. How am I going to leave him behind? We're inseparable, and I'm about to leave to go die. I'm not even going to get to see my dad. I just want to see him one last time.

After many minutes of silent hugging, I let go to hug my mother. She whimpered. Her whimper turned into a sob…and then another sob…and another sob. Soon she was crying hysterically. I attempted to comfort her.

"Mom, Hey, Mom? You need to calm down. Just breathe, okay?" I said. Her legs seemed to have given out, because she dropped to the ground. I went down on my knees with her. She buried her face into my shoulder and wept as rubbed her head comfortingly. I wish I could tell her it was going to be alright, but we all knew I wasn't going to make it. I was going to die.

In that moment, four Peace Enforcers burst in, with one yelling, "Times up! Another guest is waiting!"

They grabbed my brother, and ripped my mother from my arms. My mother screamed and thrashed. She continued this until a Peace Enforcer hit her over the head. That's when I lost it. I lunged at the Peace Enforcer, ripped his helmet off, and started hitting him ferociously. I'm a Tribute. They can't hurt me. Arms grabbed and pulled at me, but I was immovable.

I felt a pinch in my right arm, and almost instantly I felt weak. The room began to spin, and I felt myself fall backwards. Why do my eyelids feel so heavy all of the sudden? I shut them.

Oh. They drugged me.

 **A/N: Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a filler as the second chapter. *sigh* What am I doing with my life? Aaaaaaanyways, I have something I forgot to tell you. I now have an account on Wattpad ( Country_Batgirl) and Quotev (Country Batgirl). All my stories on here so far are on there. I have one story on Wattpad that isn't here or on Quotev called Past to Present. It's basically my life story- weeeeeeeelllllllll, mainly just the important bits. Although, I'm not quite caught up to the present yet. I'll give you a little sneak peak on it; it's about my current crush. So, all you hopeless romantics should keep an eye on it. Soon, I won't be posting many stories on all of my accounts. Okay, this is way too long now. Bye y'all!**

 **God Bless!**


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